The Apocalypse Case
by DarkestShadowRunner
Summary: The world is in ruin, they are here on a hunt. John and Sherlock must fight to stay alive in a dead world, but as strange powers begins to arise. Could they be the ones with the power to stop the invasion? Johnlock.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note: Hello everyone! This is my first ever fanfic so thank you for reading. Please review and do whatever it is you would like. Thank you, I hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. Sherlock belongs to it's original owners and creators.  
**

A ray of gold shone down through the lush canopy of green, lights dancing across the slowly flowing water like dainty fairies, as hard footsteps tapped against the rotting wood. Dew dropped off the shimmering leaves creating small puddles on the ground as the sound of beautiful bird songs broke the lighthearted silence. Two men walked, side by side, in silence across a decrepit, wooden walkway, deep in the heart of Devon.

The shorter man with sandy hair hummed quietly to himself as he trundled along the peaceful path, smile plastered to his face, his jumper covered the top of ragged denim jeans. However, next to him strolled a tall man with raven black curls bouncing atop his stern features, he wore an elegant aubergine shirt complete with suit trousers, covered mainly by a long sweeping black coat. He glared accusingly at the gleeful character accompanying him as the continuous sound bore into his aching head. Oblivious, the ex-army doctor turned blogger continued his obnoxious song much to the displeasure of the consulting detective.

"John…" The shorter man turned to Sherlock as he rubbed the bridge of his nose in annoyance "Please do be quiet, I'm thinking" John rolled his eyes and moved to stand in front of his gloomy companion.

"Come on Sherlock, the case is closed, you solved it all. Take some time to relax and enjoy nature!" John grinned at him signaling to the blissful nature surrounding them in the deep forest, just as an aqua blue butterfly fluttered silently across their path. Groaning, Sherlock dragged himself forwards to follow the enthusiastic soldier.

"Tranquil nature is vile John; it's dull compared to the thrill of a good old fashioned serial killer. The only murders out here are part of life and have no reason to be solved!" Throwing his head back, Sherlock stomped forwards, leaving a sighing John to follow his path.

Whilst Sherlock was storming ahead he failed to notice John pulling off to the side of the concealed path and leaning over to inspect a prickly bush. The shorter man reached deep into the needle like shrubbery until his steady hands finally closed upon a soft, squishy handful of luscious blackberries. He pulled out his clutching hand, smiling brightly, and jogged to catch up with the peculiar man's stride.

"Sherlock, do you know what these are?" He stood, expecting an immediate answer, berries in a hand outstretched to the other man who looked at them with utter disgust, the way you would look at a dog who had just emitted a horrible odour. Sherlock cast his condescending gaze nonchalantly towards them before straightening his coat and looking sharply at the John.

"Do enlighten me John." John stared at him in disbelief, how could someone not recognize such a common fruit of nature?

"They're blackberries!" He said incredulously as Sherlock raised an unimpressed brow.

"I can see that. I was hoping for something a little more specific…" He scoffed coolly as he turned to stroll evenly away. John dropped the ebony fruit and dashed after him, turning carefully to walk backwards, facing the slender man.

"How could you not know that?" Sherlock simply appeared to ignore his question as he pointed a finger square at the shorter man's chest, clothed by his classic jumper.

"You will fall off if you continue to walk like that…" John hastily spun around to walk besides Sherlock as he flailed uselessly with his hands.

"Seriously Sherlock! Blackberries! BLACKBERRIES! How could you not…" His words drifted off as a tiny smirk became visible on the cold man's face before disappearing just as quickly as it originally appeared.

"I was making a joke John." He watched contently as the sandy haired man's mouth gaped like a fish trying to form words of sanity. Confusion dotted the man's face before he rolled his eyes and sighed. Shaking his head, John returned to the man's side and cast his gaze down as they continued their walk.

"Your humor never ceases to amaze me." Sarcasm coated John's words as they continued their jaunt in a comfortable silence. Everything seemed at peace within the world as the small stream flowed gently beside them, dragonflies hovering gently above the clear water's surface. John allowed a small smile to crawl onto his tired face as Sherlock stalked moodily ahead, boredom filling his eyes, wanting badly to return to the safety of 221B.

Suddenly a strange buzzing filled the revitalizing air, like a drone surveying above a city, causing the duo to spin around and follow the strange noise. Nothing could be seen through the thick shrubbery however the ear splitting bee could be heard for what must have been miles. And if Sherlock's flawless calculations were correct, which they were, it was heading straight towards them!

"Sherlock…" The name slipped off John's quivering lips as no more than a whisper whilst the pale man in front of him raised a stubborn hand above his mesmerizing eyes, in order to block out the blinding sun. Sherlock tentatively stepped backwards, feet crushing the withering grass beneath his feet as John followed closely, attempting to find a better view point.

Then out of nowhere, a metallic capsule type device could be seen plunging like a bullet towards the Earth. Scarlet flames engulfed the front as the sun reflected off the heated surface, forming elaborate patterns on the muddy floor. The unknown object seemed to be rushing straight towards a nearby hill with wind whipping past its speeding shell. Sherlock's eyes widened as time seemed to slow. It was some sort of bomb!

Turning as fast as humanly possible, Sherlock ran for the confused John, who continued to stare intently at the very cause of the danger! A shout rang from Sherlock's mouth in shrill horror as he attempted to grab his companion's woolly jumper, but the action was in vain. In those final moments, Sherlock saw the flickering orange in John's large, glossy eyes as an unrecognized feeling of despair leaked into his stone heart.

The fiery explosion engulfed them in a second, knocking John out immediately as his body shielded the weaker detective's. Sherlock's limp figure was flung heavily into a tree trunk, as the ground around them scorched to blazing, ebony ash. John lay motionless whilst the forest fell, crippled and burnt to a crisp, obliterating the scenic landscape that surrounded them in a cloud of red, peace destroyed before everything faded to black.


	2. Chapter 2

Authors Note: Wow! Thanks you for all the support! Here is the next chapter, I hope you like it. Again please review or message me with any ideas for the future. Thank you!

The stale air seemed hazed with black as the deadly flames faded; leaving only dead plants curling tentatively away from what was once the searing heat. The once beautiful forest was completely destroyed; burnt trees lay on the ground, ebony black marks thoroughly inscribed into the timeless bark, whilst the once trickling river seemed completely lifeless in the now cleared, barren field. The vicious flames were now long gone, burnt out miles from this place, but their path of devastation lay clear for all to see, except there was no one to see, not a single sign of life was visible for miles. Except two buried figures, who lay motionless on the hard, scalded ground.

The endless darkness dissipated as Sherlock's cavernous eyes fluttered open, they seemed incredibly sore, as his long lashes consistently stuck together with clotting specks of sticky ash. Before sight even became vaguely possible, Sherlock could feel an intense, burning pain in this lower back as if someone had slammed him backwards into an unbreakable adimantimum bar. Gently the spindly man attempted to move. However a raspy gasp forced its way out of his dry mouth as the full effect of the pain hit him like a moving train, but quickly spiraled into a silent coughing fit. After it passed, he could faintly hear the sound of his own vocal cords adapting to their new found predicament, letting out a deep groan of pain and frustration. Regardless, his cold core was soon consumed with a burning determination, forcing him to move.

Grabbing at a decomposing piece of wood, the lithe man carefully heaved himself onto violently shaking legs, biting at his pale lip in order to hold back a threatening sob. Sherlock confirmed his tight grip on the rancid support as he leant over tediously, allowing a heavy breath of fresher air to enter his aching lungs. Slowly he straightened to survey the barren area, blinking at the heart retching sight before him; the once wondrous nature he had so despised now seemed so… dead. However this didn't faze him in the slightest, as he attempted to straggle forwards on quaking legs, through the murky scene. His long feet treaded over brittle twigs and fried dirt as he looked over the now horrible landscape. Halting something hit Sherlock more than the pain ever could. John!

Where was John? Worriedly Sherlock spun uncontrollably in search of his companion, his flawless eyes focused purely on scrutinizing every miniscule shape in the decimated wreckage. His breath grew heavy and shallow in blind panic and fear for his companion's life as he staggered weakly through the sharpened splinters to further his flailing search.

"JOHN?" Sherlock's hoarse shout echoed across the open landscape, easily loud enough to attract unneeded attention, as a flock of squawking birds flew hastily from a scorched, leafless tree. His head spun like a frivolous rollercoaster as he continued turning warily to locate any signs of life beneath the darkness.

Suddenly he stooped and stood dead still and silent. There it was again! A muffled groan could vaguely be heard from underneath a roof of browning foliage. It was unmistakably John's! Faster than light, Sherlock sprinted for the fading noise, ignorant of the searing pain in his back as pure, addictive adrenaline coursed once again through his veins. He found himself stood opposite a large pile of fallen tree. He mindfully bent down and vigorously pulled at the stiff branches, which broke away easily due to their crispy texture where flames had licked their defenseless skin. Relief flooded Sherlock's system as the trembling figure of Dr John Watson could be seen huddled underneath the mass of leaves. Maybe there was still hope…

"John? John, Can you hear me?" Sherlock's words came out as an unexpected whisper instead of the assertion which normally controlled his voice. A deep throaty cough emitted from the quivering man as he slowly rolled over to face the familiar voice, his eyes slitting open as much as was bearable, and a tiny smile appeared on his worn features.

"Not dead just yet!" Sherlock instantaneously smirked at John's usual persona present in his glowing eyes, before worry returned to become evident on his usually unreadable face. He hastily pushed against the crumbling branches in order to kneel by John's side, stroking a gentle hand along the length of his Jumper, only to feel the large holes now present in the woolen material, he intently observed the way the doctor's eyes scrunched in pain.

"What's wrong?" Sherlock's words came out bitter; much like an order from one of the drill sergeants in John's debilitating army training days.

"Nothing Sherlock, I'm fine…" John murmured as he attempted to rise into an easy sitting position, only to be pushed back down by his infuriated companion!

"John… Tell me what hurts!"

"I'm fine Sherlock!"

"You clearly aren't!" Exasperation cloaked Sherlock's words as he held the persistent little man down.

"SHERLOCK!"

"JOHN!" The seemingly desperate cry caused the struggling man to bluntly halt. John locked eyes with the serious Sherlock and saw the slight look of desperation lingering behind the glassy surface. He relaxed slightly and sighed with relief, as Sherlock retracted his firm grip from concreting his arms in place and moved to push gently at John's aching back. Allowing him to restore a satisfactory sitting position. They sat facing one another,the way two young children would sit in a homemade den together, but this scene was far from the bliss allowed in that situation.

"I flew back into something and now my back hurts, but apart from that I'm fine. You?" Sherlock spoke much like a child attempting to avoid a tedious subject. John noticed Sherlock's expectant gaze as he mentally pushed for a straight answer, a single eyebrow raised in question, attempting to block out the apprehension clear through his features with sly nonchalance. John rolled his eyes and leaned back exhaustedly, his withered hands sinking into the crispy, burnt grass.

"My leg… It doesn't appear to be anything serious but we should probably, you know… get out of here, find some help." Sherlock nodded in clueless confirmation, he carefully wrapped a supportive arm around John's shoulder and lifted him so that they were both stood, steadily walking away from the corrupt trees and out into the open areas. It was blatantly obvious that the fierce blast had ruined the once tranquil landscape however some thick, trees could be seen in the distance, clinging onto life despite the ash showering their branches, like black and white snow in the coldest and most decimate winter months. They were alone. At least for now.

"What happened?" John stared blankly at the surrounding rubble, lowering his head as if to inspect it, whilst Sherlock stood tall and intimidating, in the stance of a meerkat protecting its nest.

"10 ideas…" Sherlock spoke dully as John stared at the ludicrous man.

"How can you have 10, you were out cold, you couldn't possibly have seen anything!"

"Uh huh…8" Sherlock ignored John, who simply rolled his eyes and lulled in the surprisingly strong man's arms. Continuing to walk towards the distant line of cover in silence, mulling over their own thoughts.

"5 ideas"

"Really?" Once again Sherlock blatantly ignored the smaller man and continued to drag him forwards. The world seemed strangely darker as they struggled against each other. The grey sky spat at them in disgrace, or could it have the clouds crying in pity of the ones who were surely lost that day? Regardless, the waters rained down from the heavens, drenching the men to the skin with bone chilling drops.

"2...2 ideas" John exasperatedly shook his head and fumbled forwards feeling much like an abandoned potato sack. Sherlock's raven curls slicked down to his head, highlighting the spectacularly high cheekbones and made his skin appear more ghost like than ever before. John shook his head in a clumsy attempt to rid himself of the constant water stream much to the annoyance of Sherlock who bored menacingly into the back of his skull before returning to look at the approaching safety.

"0 ideas" Sherlock mumbled under his heavy breath, sincerely hoping the wind would prevent his words from reaching John's red tipped ears.

"Pardon?" Sherlock snarled as the enraging rain poured relentlessly down upon them.

"None" Enjoying his small moment victory, John chuckled nastily under his breath, and faked a confused expression whilst imploring an innocent look at the clearly frustrated detective.

"Come again?"

"NONE JOHN, I DON'T HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT IS GOING ON!" Sherlock's bellowing shout released the entire tank of pent up grievance and sent John tumbling into a fit of childlike giggles. Blushing, Sherlock hastily turned back to focus on the path ahead, scrunching up his features in annoyance at the outburst. John stared at him before classically shaking his head and returning to look at the obstacle filled road before them, a smug grin stuck to his round face.

"So, how does it feel to be clueless, detective?"

"Be quiet John" The walked in silence for a couple of tense minutes before….

"I guess we are both on the same _ordinary_ page."

"SHUT UP JOHN!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors Note: Yay! I can't believe people are enjoying this :D Thank you so much! I hope this lives up to expectations, please review it means sooo much to me!**

The unlikely duo sat under a large, bushy tree as the blistering sun rose high into the new morning sky. No usual sounds were present in the ravaged land, apart from the whisper of cool air snaking through the bustling, dried leaves. Sherlock stood at attention gazing out over the barren wilds, a condescending frown hiding deeper emotions as the fire's devastating effects finally seemed to sink in. The previous roaring night, he and John had found shelter in an abandoned cave, discretely hidden amongst the barricade of foliage and seemingly impregnable at the time. The invaluable shelter was now playing house to Dr. Watson, who sat groggily, considering his companion tiredly as his draconian head twitched like a curious dog following an intriguing scent.

Once the glowing white lanterns had risen in the darkened sky, the night before, John had examined the injuries they had both acquired in the former horror. Upon through inspection, the intense blow had not had such catastrophic effects on their bodies as was first assumed. Some serious, raging mauve bruises throbbed from the perilous impact but nothing that neither would recover from soon, all consequences considered they had left relatively unharmed. This in mind, the doctor had scavenged some precious sleep, but Sherlock (being Sherlock) had neglected the human nature in preference of calculating ideas on the current situation (he wouldn't admit it, but John's previous statement about being _ordinary_ had bugged him continuously since the derogatory words left his mouth).

A thunderous rumble broke the stale silence as John doubtfully sighed at his inpatient stomach. Sherlock's head snapped to him as the taller man turned and strode hastily back into the echoing cave, which amplified his clicking footsteps like a beat box stereo. John warily leaned back as the detective zipped to sit comfortably beside him, lips pursed into a thin line.

"Hungry?" John rolled his eyes.

"Yes Sherlock. Sorry that I don't poses your super human ability of not having to consume for days on end." Sherlock snorted in ignorance and rose to stand, pale hands shoved thoughtfully into the seemingly endless pockets of his remaining coat.

"Right… Then we shall proceed to find the rest of the regular population. Come along John." And with that, the giant stalked determinably out into the dark day. John heaved himself onto to slightly shaking legs, knees knocking clumsily together, as he stumbled after the steadfast man.

Knowing perfectly well that John would follow closely, Sherlock steadily began trekking down a rather level hill; bare expanses were visible through the charred trees, as winding paths could be seen entwined into the abysmal forest. He continued navigating down the rocky slope until eventually sliding onto the scorched flatland below. Struggling behind, John took shallow breaths as he fought the instinct to take a break, soon becoming victorious as he leaned over dramatically next to the still Sherlock. His injured leg protested violently at the actions and left a stinging sensation grinding painfully through his veins while he gasped unsuccessfully for clean air; however the stagnant detective paid no notice, focused intensely on what lay ahead.

"Sherlock, Can we please take it easy! My leg is… Sherlock?" John halted halfway through his rasped, patchy words and turned his bobbing head to follow the perceptive man's fixated gaze. His bushy brows pulled together in confusion. Before them lay a broad sheet of silver mist, the unnatural looking substance obstructing any view they could hope to have held. Slight outlines of jagged branches stuck out like daggers, but the trees they were part of were cloaked in the shimmering substance, causing the air around it to become heavy and damp.

"Sherlock?"

"That isn't natural…"

"What?"

"The mist John! That can't possibly be natural mist. Look at it!" John turned and indeed the thickening fog was like nothing he had ever seen, but all his instincts alerted him to the fact that there were many things he was yet to see in the gargantuan world. Shaking his head he walked forwards despite the excessive protesting shouts from a casually distressed consulting detective.

"John! Stop. God's sake, JOHN!"

"What? Oh, come on Sherlock! It's fine! What do you think it is some sort of deadly mist? That's ridiculous even by _your_ standards!" The angry man growled, before stomping closer to the looming argentite. Interrupting his premeditating thoughts, Sherlock dashed vigorously and gripped securely onto the shorter man's upper arm, causing him to falter and stop. Sherlock lowered his head and whispered directly into his scarlet dipped ears.

"Look at the way it is curling around the ground. It whips around the grass before backtracking upon itself, almost as if there is some kind of wall blocking its path. Look up, it stops bluntly and angles in another direction, like a box. Whatever this is, it is inside some kind of invisible container. The way it dampens the light allows it to reveal glitches in certain areas. If you view closely where it shimmers, it becomes pixelated every 20 seconds. This is far from _natural_ mist John!" The cold, stern whisper seemed to paralyze John as an icy sensation clawed at his back; he started at the now terrorizing fog with pearly eyes wide, giving him an unnerving resemblance to a hedgehog stuck in the headlights.

Everything Sherlock said was true!

John slowly began to pick up on the continuous glitches as Sherlock gently attempted to lead him away from the strange malfunction, eyes whipping around in order to search for the unviable, whilst John's adam apple dropped in a fretting, frightened gulp.

"So…What does it mean exactly?" His hoarse words came out as a high whimper before being halted by a soul wrenching growl. Both men stood, frozen like boards, as horror gripped their barely beating hearts, Sherlock snapped out of it quickly and continued to straggle hastily backwards.

"It means, there is something inside that shouldn't be let out…" Suddenly a heavy bang penetrated the stale air, buzzing in John's ears like a deafening church memorial. The writhing mist parted, only for a brief second, and exposed a pitch shadow, banging against what could now be distinguished as an imperceptible barrier. John's mouth hung agape in pure terror as he took staggering steps on the dust lined ground, all observing companion close to his right.

"Sherlock…"

Again! The silvers parted, the creature was colossal, easily standing higher than most modern buildings with what appeared to be spiked fur, barbed away from its gruesome, mangled looking body. Bang! It sounded through the rigidity air over and over, Sherlock speedily span and surveyed the barren area. There was no significant cover for what must have been miles, they would never make it, but the craggy path they had originally emerged from was now unreachable, blending into the hazing background. There was no way to escape!

"SHERLOCK!" It emerged suddenly. The vociferous sound of shattering glass was drowned out to the heart stopping gurgle coming from the horrifying creature, free from the overcast prison and on an undying warpath. Without thinking Sherlock plunged at the quivering John, succeeding in pulling him onto the hard dirt, surely they were less likely to be noticed as a smaller target. A trembling, boney hand covered John's convulsing mouth as both men received their first complete look at the abomination, only to wish they hadn't!

Ugly features distorted into something of nightmares, matted grey fur like barbed spikes wrapped around a muscular unnatural body, pristine razor-sharp teeth appearing from underneath a scarred snout as it snarled aggressively at the once forbidden landscape. It's salient claws curling and tearing through the scorched ground with ease, a knife through butter, John could feel his hammering heart sink straight out of his utterly numb body. It stood stubborn and pointed before stalking forwards, the steps quaking the arid ground, as the mutant began its lumbering walk towards the vast expanse of foliage which lay tedious miles behind. It walked unknowingly above them. Sherlock watched unwaveringly with John lying limp under his side, paying the two of them no attention as it trudged past, back ridged in a contentious arch. That was until a tiny snivel sounded weakly from the covered mouth…

The creature turned, exposing fiery, blood red eyes which reflected death, entering the twisting souls of the now wide eyed, unmatched companions. They both lay aghast as the silence in the dead clearing turned unbearably stale, and the creature's appalling snout seemed to curl up cruelly into a grim smile directed straight at its newly acquired debilitated prey. Sherlock's eyes exposed chambers of dismay as his body stiffened and instinctively clung closer to John's welcoming warmth; however tears prickled at the edges of the smaller man's eyes, for he knew this was his fault. Their deaths would be purely and entirely _his_ fault.

Time slowed. In a flash Sherlock had John on his agitated feet and they were running, dashing away from the monster faster than cheetahs on route. However it was immediately biting at their fleeing heels as it charged with all its conjurable might. Wind whipped furiously through tangled messes of hair and fur as the run of life sped across the lifeless opening, ground pounding from the force, causing dust to encase petrified features. They entered the glistening silver fog, instantaneously noticing the distinct lack of danger it seemed to pose on closer inspection, swirling hastily around them as the texture felt distinctly like a snake constricting its powerless victim. The sparkling matter exploded away from the massive frame of the repugnant monster in pursuit of them, unearthly roars reverberating across the obliterated landscape, striking fear into the runner's hearts as it nipped at their aching heels. Legs beginning to give way, John and Sherlock sprinted as their remaining life depended on it, desperation brimming in their stinging eyes. Panting chest's risi0ng and collapsing wildly!

Bursting through the clear side of the dense fog, their momentum continued forcing them forwards; Sherlock nervously spared a glancing look back over his covered shoulder, to be met with a slightly comforting vision. The grotesque creature's unseemly face was pressed tough against the barrier once again, its broad bones clanged against the wall, but the attempts were feeble due to extreme exhaustion, after being confined with no reasonable exercise for so long (assuming it had been in this container before it was placed on the new land) it was bound to be at least vaguely unfit. Regardless the two stumbling figures continued strenuously down the hill, towards what would hopefully be classed as temporary safety.

"Sherlock!"

"Keep running!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Authors Note: Hello! Here is the next chapter, I hope this lives up to standards. :/ Please review! Thank you so much, anything you do means loads to me!**

"What in hell was that?" The blundering duo stood panting violently, beneath a broken arch of decrepit bricks. John was bent double, heaving clouded bursts of freshness into his burning lungs, whilst the ever casual Sherlock stood assertively, attempting to cover up his similar exhaustion. Flaring his precise nostrils, he span to face his crumpled companion. Glancing nonchalantly at his scrunched up features with a stern expression of complete disinterest.

"What?"

"That…That thing!" John spluttered out unbelievingly as Sherlock began another tedious set of paces.

"Well, it looked like some sort of dog…"

"Well no…" Sherlock raised an unimpressed eyebrow as the papilating man signaled for him to continue.

"So… Something is here. On Earth. Something that dropped a bomb and has now sent weird mutants down… But what, and why?" Finally catching his ragged breath, John leaned against the cracked brickwork, curiously inspecting it before looking expectantly at the deadly silent detective.

"Any ideas?"

"Aliens…"

"Aliens?"

"Hmm… Maybe." John sighed, slightly miffed, as Sherlock's raven mop stared thoughtfully up into the dull, murky sky. Groaning the short man heaved himself off the walled support and began to create primitive mocking signals behind the detective, who (by this point) was far to engrossed in his own invigorating thoughts to pay any attention the ignorant antics.

"Run everyone, run! The aliens are striking! They're here to steal our jam and tea, then take us back to their distant planets for strange mating rituals" The sarcasm leaked off John's twisted tongue, only to be met with the indifference of Mr. Holmes. "But how do we know all this? How? Simple! Because the amazing consulting detective Sherlock Holmes told us so! Let's go kill them all! Charge! As today we fight for Earth, heading valiantly into the hatred of battle!"

All of a sudden, the disinterested Sherlock spun decisively on his creaking heels, simply to be met with the odd image of John pretending to kill an invisible enemy with what would be considered an imaginary sword. Clearly the serial mocking had spiraled into something of a game for the former. Happening to notice Sherlock's lingering gaze, John hastily straightened himself out and forced a deep, confirming cough.

"Sorry…" He mumbled quietly.

"Not at all John… Regardless, let us be off!" With that, the towering man strutted up energetically, to a nearby moss covered hill. Slightly confused, John staggeringly followed, gripping onto the brittle roots for support, sometimes Sherlock's complete disregard for his capabilities served as a great mental struggle. Honestly why did he put up with this insane man? Oh that's right, because he is absolutely bloody brilliant! Shaking the unappreciated thoughts off, they walked in comfortable silence before eventually reaching the elevated landing over the top of the high landmass.

Below them lay, what once must have been, a small, rural village. Its scorched remains littered the once lush land like pollution in the glorious oceans; however the small amount of sanctuary the potential accommodation held there was extremely inviting. Sherlock was a hawk examining the area whilst John took in the wonderful view, well as close to wonderful as you could get in a time like this, the neglected spot they had stumbled upon was placed perfectly as the wild landscape spread out below, allowing the spectator to view every direction for miles. Thoughts bubbled inside the sandy head causing him to turn around. There it was. The misted veil lay motionless behind them; no sign of the resident horror which they were aware now plainly lay inside. Fear gathered in the pit of John's stomach as their dire situation continued to sink in, only to be interrupted by a soft hand on his tense shoulder.

"We're going down there, come on." Sherlock looked pointedly at the little, classically English village before dropping to scale the other side of the rough land. John obediently followed as they tentatively approached the seemingly dead town.

"Do you think there is anyone here?"

"I know there are people here…" John rolled his sore eyes.

"Of course you do… Take me through the complicated implications?"

"Obvious. They're stood right there" Turning, Sherlock's blunt words were confirmed, leaving John feeling like an utter idiot. A gut purging position he commonly found himself in whilst in the presence of Sherlock Holmes. True to his word, about twenty people huddled closely before them, murmurings passing through the tightly knit group like Chinese whispers. You could see clear tear marks streaked down beautiful faces of the thin women, whilst the rugged looking men stood, muscles bursting from underneath slack shirts, albeit a little nervous. Poor bodies could be seen piled high beneath a pure white sheet, at the foot of what appeared to be some form of detailed bird statue. A shaky John turned away to compose himself, whilst the unfeeling detective marched inconspicuously into the woeful conversations, unwaveringly intent on something or other.

Unfortunately, this allowed time in which John lost the pale man amongst the bustling crowd. How was that even possible with so few people? But trust Sherlock to disappear! The doctor thought indecently to himself as he searched begrudgingly for his strong-willed companion. He was interrupted however by a young, bright eyed child. She dashed up to him; toothy grin displayed below her frizzy, brown hair, and dirtied overalls almost falling off her tiny frame.

"Hello!"

"Um…Hello." John mumbled, staring awkwardly at the strange kid, who at this point seemed almost to be jumping with bitter-sweet excitement.

"Did you know? It's the end of the world!" John raised a wiry eyebrow, continuing his mental search for the evasive Sherlock.

"Is it now…"

"Yeah! Welcome to Lorem. I'm Tracey, who're you?"

"John."

"That's a nice name. What are you doing here, John?" The man added no immediate reply, causing the girl's feature to change into ones of impatient, boredom at the seemingly dull man. "Who are you looking for?"

"My friend Sherlock..!" There he was! John spotted the inquisitive man by the remains of an outside garden wall, once belonging to a large, country house. His long arm stuck high into the air, clearly attempting (and failing) to receive a mobile phone signal. Much to Tracey's displeasure, John pushed rudely past her in pursuit of the ghostly male. The small girl expressed her annoyance by arrogantly stomping away to nestle amongst the familiar, caring family of Lorem's small community.

"What are you doing?"

"There's no signal…"

"Well there's a surprise!" Sherlock deliberately chose to ignore John's smug statement and proceeded to stare at the gang of whimpering residents, who by this time, had noticed the unusual duo and were staring disapprovingly and accusingly at the two of them. However, the unperturbed Sherlock ignored it all in preference of turning the now useless phone over and over in his tampering hand. Meanwhile, a sighing John pulled himself up to take seat on the cracked, orange wall, placing his hands experimentally in his lap before leaning towards Sherlock's open ear.

"From what I hear, it's officially the end of the world!" He stated matter of factly.

"Really? That's quite an outlandish theory."

"You said it." Carefully leaning back, John stared at the ever darkening sky, unknowingly letting his overused eyes drift shut in relaxation. The last couple of days had left him excruciatingly exhausted, confusion weighing down his usually light heart, whilst Sherlock seemed overall unaffected. Sometimes John believed whole heartedly that he may never understand the complicated creation he had acquainted himself with, however he regretted nothing, every moment of excitement overrode any perplexing indignation. Never a dull moment with the perfect consulting detective! Speaking of the devil (or angel depending on how you looked at it)…

"End of the world… Quite a barmy theory. But not totally out of the question." Disbelievingly, John grabbed the now moving man's thin shoulder, interrupting the now evident spring in his joyful step.

"Seriously Sherlock?" John's words looped out with incredulity dripping. For the loyal man it seemed slightly odd to question the wise man he had followed trustily for so long, but 'the end of the world'? He couldn't honestly believe that. The elated Sherlock leaned in close to John's misjudging face, letting his deep words echo through the close body.

"Seriously!" And with that he was off, dancing around with happiness at the potential of a new form of intriguing case. Great. John unwillingly followed, a deep frown consuming his face at the surely preposterous idea.

Suddenly the dried land around them shook with the force of a stampede of raging bison, an ear splitting siren penetrated the serene air, causing everyone in the sounding vicinity to cover their pained ears. John amongst them, as he ran clumsily in attempt to collect the now motionless Sherlock. The deafening noise burned into his skull as he grabbed the astute man's rough coat and dragged him behind a nearby patch of dark foliage. The ground quaked as John protectively wrapped his arms around the struggling figure, flailing, and determined to discover the source of the terror. The clanging metallic racket corroded the already dying landscape as unusual reflections shimmered on the unyielding ground.

That was when it appeared.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Notes: Hello! Sorry if this story seems a bit dull; review with anything you would like to see. Also, sorry about the slow updates. Thanks for reading and hopefully supporting. I hope you enjoy it anyway!**

The ground continued to shake violently as it hovered precariously above the surrounding land. Sherlock's struggles ceased in the smaller man's arms, his eyes widening at the sight of what seemed to be a colossal, titanium ship blasting above the rural village. It's lustrous metal shone vividly in the cooling afternoon sun, huge engines spitting raging flames onto the now burnt ground below. Some translucent windows could be seen misted from the inside, encased in the metal giant, which continued to emit horrible screaming.

A large thud convulsed the dancing dirt as the hefty abomination landed clumsily, devastating the country cottage below as bricks flew dangerously away from it and physically hit a few unknowing residents of the small village. Humming engines powering down whilst a creaking bridge dropped from a well hidden shaft of the now halted vehicle. Noticing Sherlock's lack of demanding struggles, John lessened his grip and allowed himself to also gaze wide eyed at the massive transit.

"W-What is that?"

"I have no idea…" Sherlock mumbled quietly before forcefully pulling the awed John behind him. Roughly dragging them both closer to the looming unknown, and sheltering under a decrepit wall, his crystal eye's never once breaking contact with the now open shaft. Blinding light shone through the crack as silvering smoke snaked across the dead landscape, at least twenty people stood motionless, staring terrified at the lunar module.

Suddenly, a rather stern looking man emerged from inside the heaving fog. His strong steps echoed freakishly loud across the battered land whilst Sherlock roughly pulled the silently protesting John ever closer to the alien skyscraper. His hair was of a light brown; slicked back to his large head, jaw set stern above his bulky frame, suited in some sort of greenish military uniform. He definitely didn't look like the kind of man you would want to mess with (or be anywhere near for that matter), giving off the robust, murderous waves of an overly strong club bouncer as he strolled idly down scaled platform.

Sherlock paused abruptly, causing John to give off a small grunt of disapproval as he bumped into his bony back. The taller man glanced at him uninterested before switching his attention to focus, unmoving on the new, mysterious character. Picking himself up, the ex-soldier also peered curiously at the ponderous pile of bulging muscle. But curiosity did kill the cat. He immediately slumped back behind the wall, gulping heavily and attempting to will the strange image out of his head. This was not happening. There was not an alien space ship with some random guy strolling nonchalantly out of it! There wasn't! He was going mad! It was probably hanging out with this muppet so much, no sleep and nothing to eat except excessive amounts of tea (not that there was anything wrong with the exquisite taste of tea). While these undying thoughts whipped around his head, Sherlock simply observed.

But there was nothing! No matter how excessively he searched, there were absolutely no details given away by this man's appearance alone. Oh this really could get interesting. He could feel the surge of anticipation bubbling in his empty stomach at the overly tempting thought of a brand new, provocative case! Right… They had to get closer! Standing expeditiously, but not high enough to draw attention to himself, he vigorously marched forwards (continuing to drag the cut off John closely behind him) taking cover behind certain areas in order to avoid everyone's wandering gazes. He even proceeded with his plan when the enigmatic figure began to speak.

"Do not panic, we are here as friends." His deep, soul wrenching voice bellowed across the susceptible area, causing the residents to cower even further into their little groups but not allowing their eyes to break from the intruder who etched an unconvincing smile onto his hard features. Sherlock walked tentatively closer to the groaning metal as John slowly uncurled to listen to the booming voice. "We will not hurt you humans. I believe the phrase is, we are simply here to talk…"

To this Sherlock snorted arrogantly, breaking John's gaze away from the perplexing man, only to stare confused at his now storming but eager companion. "What?" Despite everything, his vocals still sounded relatively strong as he finally began to take a hold on the awfully odd situation.

"Like hell do they come in flipping peace…" Sherlock's voice was coated in a hauntingly familiar yearning as they pushed towards the vehicle, John remaining completely oblivious to the consulting detective's fore coming plan.

"What Sherlock?"

"Please, look at that man; he looks like a straight, sociopath attempting to charm a room of boys. Whoever he is, it's hidden well beneath everything, but he still rubs his hands together behind his back. Nervousness or is he finding this tedious? Most likely the second. Therefore he must be stalling, he is waiting for something he has been told will happen." John stared at the inscrutable man who did indeed seem quite on edge. "We aren't waiting to find out what that is." And finally, John's heart dropped with realization.

"Wait, not waiting for it! Sherlock, I'm not going on that bloody ship! We will both end up dead!" The smaller man struggled, but it was in vain as the smarter man had already maneuvered them right around to the back of the intimidating vessel. And before John could dare to protest further, Sherlock grabbed him fiercely and swiftly glided into the ship. Just as the broad, faker stumbled closer to the stunted crowd.

"Honestly, there is nothing to worry about." Luckily, these forced words covered their escapade. John's heart was beating in his ears as he fought the overwhelming urge to punch the foolish detective and get as far away from possible, whilst a sly egotistical grin crept onto Sherlock's own features at his 'pure genius'. A case! No one had appeared to notice their absence or entrance onto the ship, slightly easing John's nerves as he was pulled hastily behind a shorter wall, completely hidden in the shrouded darkness while still allowing the inquisitive Sherlock to peer at the surroundings.

The rigid man slowly slid forwards just as the sound of something preparing to fire began grumbling from behind the adventurous duo. At this hushed noise, the man visibly relaxed into his burly posture, this had to be his sign! Something big was about to…!

Sherlock yanked the slow John down, out of the direct fire of whatever was to come. A pristine glow blasted like a bullet from the wispy opening behind, filling the wide area in it's blinding rays. Only three people were shielded from it's painless yet eerie grasp, as the strange man, Sherlock and John all had their eyes scrunched tightly into their heads. However from behind pink eyelids it became obvious that the white had died down; allowing the cavernous wonderers to reopen and search for the effects it had taken on the lost village. Sherlock was the first up as he glared intensely at the population before him, slight shock breaking through his neutral mask.

All the villagers seemed frozen. Their once lively face and eyes blank like a parade of thoughtless zombies as the swayed before collapsing onto the grubby floor, as if having no control over their flailing limbs. However nothing had occurred to unsettle the physical landscape or buildings around them. The intruder seemed pleased at this reaction as he looked around pointedly before returning back into the depths of the closing ship. Remaining completely oblivious to the duo's presence as he strolled straight past them and through what appeared to be a DNA activated door. Sherlock was only bought back down from his thought track by John's sharp gasp at the now impossible sight of the fallen residents.

"What on Earth…"

"What off Earth would be more likely…" Sherlock mumbled hesitantly as he settled comfortably next to the worried John who was strenuously trying to figure out what must have already been 'obvious' child's play for the great Sherlock Holmes.

"So… High ranked technology. Approximately two hundred years more advanced than our own, yet they have chosen to come here. Obviously their engines shorted out, hence the fires, which must have triggered a chain reaction in disabling whatever cloaking device was functioning at the time. In other words, they don't want us to know they are here, would make sense since that ray may have wiped the memories of those people, but why… Why can't we know they are here? Especially after every human on earth will already realize something is wrong due to the missiles which rained down! Have they thought this through…? Yes, of course they have… There's something else… Something more important" John spluttered at Sherlock's continuous murmurings, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Of course, you would figure all that out, my god Sherlock! Mind wiping! Who the hell are we dealing with! And more to the point why are _we_ dealing with them!" Sherlock simply ignored John's statement as it interrupted any signs of entering his sacred mind palace. But the short man just wouldn't shut up! "How can you even be sure? Maybe they are just here for pea-"

"CLEARLY NOT JOHN! For god's sake, even an idiot like you (no offense was taken at this statement) should be able to figure it out. There is something deeper, something _you and I_ are going to find out. Because right now, we may be the only ones who can!" Sherlock grabbed John's tense shoulders and looked straight into his glassy eyes. "Earth's fate may be in our hands John!" He couldn't hide his exhilaration at that last point (it was the case, not the saving the other humans part that kept Sherlock excited) but his trick had worked. The soldier side of John surfaced as his expression hardened to one of complete confidence, a willing follower, for what he deemed to be a good cause.

"Right! Let's go! ... Where are we going exactly?"

"Not entirely sure, just follow me…" And with that the remarkable duo crept down the unblemished hall, hiding in the ebony shadows which looked extremely out of place in the sterile ship. Sherlock purposely chose a route leading away from the murmurings, leaving whatever crew the ship acquired far in the background, and giving them a freer rein on the spotless transport. Slithering silently through various mechanics without a trace, blood pumping like rockets through their itching veins.

Suddenly, burdensome footsteps ricocheted off the walls ahead of them. Someone/Something was coming! Sherlock's tingling senses immediately kicked into life, buzzing with a considerable number of escape routes (most of which turned up as blanks), whilst John tracked the heavy steps by his side. The consulting detective's shuddering body seized up, yet again he had no ideas! What was wrong with him? Maybe it was this stale air affecting his usually unmatchable intelligence. Or maybe something new…

Dragging Sherlock out of his puzzling analysis, John whipped into what appeared to be a gap inside the thick walls, easily dragging the man's lithe frame along beside him. He hurriedly covered his mouth before Sherlock could let out any noises of annoyance or shock, as the cascading footsteps passed right next to them. The air seemed to stop flowing as both hiders became tense. The view from the squished area was not extremely generous, not allowing the now recovered detective to analyze the brisk stalker. Only being able to make out a small figure with long flowing hair, uncomfortably resembling a human despite definitely not being of this Earth.

When the nostalgic steps faded, Sherlock ripped the salted hand away from his lips, only to be pulled staunchly into a room which was revealed from behind the inadequately generous path. His attention promptly drawn towards the intriguing structure overpowering all other features of the room.

"Sherlock, what the hell are we doing?" Ignored.

"Sherlock!" John looked up slowly and realized what his companion was so focused on. Shock and confusion playing clearly across his rounded face, as Sherlock's thin lips move to form a mundane 'O' shape.

"What the-"

"Biological bombs…!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Notes: Hello again! How have you been? Good. Hope you enjoy this chapter, thank you for reading. Please review or do whatever you see fit!**

The colossal metallic tube stood tall; a vibrant blue liquid surged inside, squirming to shift into the displacement of previous matter. Air bubbles rose to the top before vanishing in the air tight chamber of horror. John stared curiously at the strange liquid as Sherlock tentatively moved forwards with the intention of examining what he assumed to be a bomb.

"Sherlock…" Apprehension coated John's words of warning to his companion, but the stubborn detective continued. Letting his hand rest on the cool, transparent glass of the tube, his eyebrows drew together. The doctor hesitated behind him, not sure whether to stop Sherlock or not, but eventually gave into overwhelming temptation. Sherlock glared inquisitively and tapped against the glass, allowing a hollow clanging to echo through the small space.

"Sherlock, how do you know it's a bio-bomb?"

"Look at it John, have you never seen sci-fi films?" John stared unbelieving at the strange man.

"I knew I shouldn't have got you into crap telly! It's probably just some form of fuel or something…" Finishing his inspection, Sherlock turned nonchalantly to his sceptical partner, shaped eyebrow raised in question. Honestly, how boring could it be in those little brains?

"John… Don't worry, that isn't my only reason for suspicion. Honestly" John slowly eased up and relaxed. What was he thinking; of course Sherlock knew what he was talking about. He always did. Summoning some courage, the doctor steeped forwards and settled his hand on the frigid glass, causing an uncomfortable spike of cold to surge through his muscular body. Sherlock's flinty glare burned into the back of his head, before the man scoffed and began circling the pipe and miniscule room.

"It has to be a bio-bomb, there's really no other explanation. The way the chemicals move, it would be impossible to keep that stable or perfect the effects with modern day technology but with mechanics this advanced… It could be feasible to believe that if a specific chain reaction is to be released, the whole bomb would explode. Obliterating natural life without harming the physical environment to a great extent." John peered around at the pacing man from behind the hefty cylinder.

"So basically, they have better tec. They made this. If they blow it up, it will kill humans but not destroy stuff like buildings?" Sherlock sighed at the patheticness of the simplified explanation but nodded regardless. The effects would definitely be drastic if this was to be set off. At this confirmation, John warily backed off and moved to join the now motionless man on the other side of the room. "What do we do now then?" Unfortunately Sherlock was far to engrossed in his own thoughts to answer his question and began speaking as if the other man wasn't there (much like he had done at 221B).

"Why haven't they set this off? Why bother blowing up certain parts of the planet with huge, noticeable bombs but then wiping people's memories when they see you? Why not just use this to kill them? It doesn't make sense. Unless they want something from us, but what? What could an advanced race such as this need of a lower species like humans?" Sherlock's logical mutterings continued but the shorter's attention was quickly drawn away to an unusual sound reverberating in the distance.

As far as John could tell, the room they stood in was closed off apart from the tiny coridoor they had snuck through (which, due to it's size and the obstructions throuout it, obviously wasn't supposed to be used as an enternace) and a grey sealed door on the wall opposite, so that would be the only proper enterance. The staggering sound didn't strike John as being footsteps; it was more of an endless rumbling drone blaring all around the ship. Sherlock remained oblivious, or uncaring (depending on which way you looked at it), as he rambled through various incomprehensible theories. John edged backwards, attempting to pull the headstrong intelligence with him, despite Sherlock's vain attempts to brush the former off. Not wanting to be disturbed.

But suddenly, the whole room moved. Roughly jagging upwards and forcing the two men to lose their firm footings. Falling freely onto the hard, leaden floor, they bumped into one another as Sherlock became once again aware of his surroundings. Blinking hastily, his gaze landed on the crumpled figure of John groaning in pain beneath him. Sherlock bolted up, without any injuries, and gently raised the ex-soldier to his quivering feet.

"John, are you okay?"

"Yeah, just a bump." They stood in relative silence for minute as the lusty humming gradually died down to a muted buzz. Sherlock eventually released his concerned grip on the doctor, who continued to stumble forwards and inspect the dangerous tubes for any sign of breakage. "What was that about?" Sherlock smoothly leant over and pressed his ear to the raw, vibrating floor, receiving only a confused glance from his companion.

"We… We're moving. We must be flying. So they got the malfunction fixed in a very short time then. Very advanced technology, maybe even self-repairing. Interesting, this is good John. A new case, so intriguing since we (I) don't know the main facts. This'll be fun!" John simply rolled his eyes exasperetly and continued to inspect the glass, which had easily withstood the move and remained immobile. Sherlock swiftly stood up and glanced around the room as if he was looking for something. "Why are they so eager to blast off? Surely they could have at least inspected the area before fleeing, even if they do have somewhere to be… Or something to do?"

Sherlock's eyes widened at the object placed discretely in the most shadowed corner of the room. Horror's hand grasping around his limbs so much that instead of speaking his counterparts name, a tiny whimper seemed to escape his stunted lips. John stared anomalously at the frozen detective, unable to identify what had caused his sudden halt. Sherlock continued to stare, as in the corner, cloaked in ebony, lay the dimmed features of a camera!

They had to know they were on the ship! Surely, no high tech race could be stupid enough not to check security! How could he have been so stupid as to not think about that? John… Wait, they had blasted off! There was no escape now, they were stuck, even if they weren't aware they were on board! Why blast off so hastily, because they knew! They knew the duo were on the ship! NO! Sherlock's racing thoughts were interrupted by a barrage of armed creatures, covered in extensive amounts of thick armour, flooded like a stampede into the tiny room. John had no time to react accordingly, so the sandy haired man simply resorted to throwing up his hands in a general sign of peace. Not noticing Sherlock's unwavering gaze focused not on the invaders, but on John himself.

"On your knees!" The monotonous voice bellowed through the space, controlling every figure in the room, the bio-bomb still running, unharmed and untouched, in the middle of the bustling crowd. As more bulky men surrounded the duo, the order filled the air like lingering smoke, all the individual particles attempting to push down the detective and his companion. Suddenly Sherlock felt a sharp pain stubbing into his lower back, someone hitting his with the but of a weapon, this snapped him instantaneously out of his stupor.

"John!" His cry for John was weak, as he struggled against the brutes who now attempted to push him down physically. The unusually desperate plea caused John to immediately begin fighting the larger soldier's around him. Despite his smaller size, he had a decent amount of muscle as he punched two brutes to the ground in attempts to reach Sherlock, who was easily being overpowered by the threatening goons despite his intense struggles.

John violently swung at the enemy, pounding as many as possible onto the hardened ground. But they just wouldn't stay down! All the seemingly super soldiers continued to rise again and again. Sherlock fought against his unyielding restraints before abruptly stopping dead in their arms. John fell to the ground with a heavy thump as Sherlock's heart of stone seemed to drop. His lifeless body was engulfed by the fists of the oppressors as he vanished from Sherlock's sight, guarded by the robust, bulky bodies of the aliens. And in that moment of terror, the ogres pushed the consulting detective to his knees.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Notes: Sorry, I have been on holiday with a distinct lack of internet! I hope you enjoy this anyway, thank you sooo much for reading, reviewing and continued support. Reviews are much appreciated. Here we go…**

"Stay down…" The brute whispered harshly into Sherlock's pink-tipped ear as four of the armored creatures continued to clench his weakened body parts. Sherlock would have been incapable of escaping, even if he had wanted or had any mind to do so. But he was frozen like a board, emotionless features portraying nothing as he stared at where John had once been. Shadows weighed under his eyes like bruises as the monsters crowded the area so as not to allow him any view, causing the bone cracking thud of his companion's landing to echo around inside his drooping head. The consulting detective did not often experience such emotions but right now, it felt as if someone was tightening a rope around his stale heart, constricting it to the point of explosion.

"What do we have here then?" The most prestigious looking new comer, stood casually in the once sealed entrance, his high voice seemed to pale in comparison to the bellowing beforehand. Slowly Sherlock's attention was drawn to analyzing the newcomer. It was immediately notable that he was very different to the ogres currently holding him. He appeared human, with jet black hair gelled into a tight fringe and crew cut at the sides. He was wearing a velvet, emerald suit as his appearance wholly gave of a majestic vibe to undermine all those in the room. It seemed preposterous to even consider him being some form of leader when compared to the muscular, puzzling armor clad figures filling the small space. Sherlock studied him, applying a mask of arrogance to his feature as the stocky figure began walking leisurely towards him.

"Thought we wouldn't notice extra weight on the ship?" The perplexing man smiled maliciously, leaning his face uncomfortably close to Sherlock's own, only to receive a glare of daggers from the detective, who was straining to stop a growl emerging from his throat.

"Thought we wouldn't notice bombs raining down on our planet?" Sherlock spoke with venom dripping off his spiteful words. This evidently displeased the man who abruptly stood up right and lifted a hand as if to strike his prisoner (or whatever Sherlock assumed he was now), but after a moment's thought he simply lowered the appendage and sighed. Cheasure grin reappearing on his sickly features.

"Feisty one, aren't we?" Sherlock glared menacingly as the goons behind him roughly dragged him into a feeble standing position, their abnormal leader still swanning around the room and nodding enthusiastically at what he saw. But the consulting detective paid no attention, as to his right, a groaning John was now also being heaved up by the surrounding aliens. Allowing comforting conformation that he was indeed alive albeit slightly beaten.

A nasty purple bruise had already formed on the side of his usually smooth face, as his whole body throbbed in just bearable pain. Small splatters of blood had corroded onto his cloud like jumper, staining it forever, as he somehow appeared quite lanky next to his burly oppressors. Sherlock couldn't tear his eyes away from the vulnerable sight, it was his fault, everything. He swallowed as the roughened medic couldn't even turn to face his friend in the eyes. Unfortunately this quite touching display of discrete emotions was spotted by the original speaker who now began walking slowly towards John.

"So… What _do _we have here?" He stalked awfully close to the blogger, who on instinct attempted to appear as formidable as possible. Sketching an emotionless stare onto his features (not anywhere near as perfected as Sherlock's own) and bolting upright to compete with the other man's similar height, puffing his chest out slightly despite the heavy handed restraint behind him. This only caused the nearing man to laugh madly. "You humans all think you're so tough! You really aren't!" He jaggedly grabbed John's chin and pushed it from side to side, his grip almost crushing the bone beneath, and forcing John to look right at Sherlock.

"Such odd creatures" Sherlock squirmed in a miniscule attempt of resistance, he wanted to rip the unknown thing's face off, along with his snide smirk! No one should touch _his _John without his permission! He pulled against them, but was easily overpowered by the brutes behind, who continued to hold securely in place. John's face was whipped back around to look straight at the man. "So young… So little to give to the universe…"

Sherlock suddenly barked in what he thought could pass off as annoyance, as the man leant to close to John's trembling resistant figure. But apparently it didn't work. The goon's head span around to examine his prisoner before smiling and moving even closer to the now clearly panicking John. "How interesting…"

"Leave him alone!" Sherlock's shout was a demand as his unacceptance climaxed, but his features remained emotionless as he maintained his dignity in a strong but unmoving stance. The sly snake giggled and, thankfully, moved away from John's bruised figure to focus his attention on Sherlock, who continued to glare at him murderously.

"Hmmm… Anyway, why are you on my ship?" The ugly man questioned and stared expectantly at his taller counterpart.

"Why are you on my planet?"

"_**Your **_planet is it! I'll have to remember that!" Sherlock scrunched his nose at the man's laughs and discarded the mocks. Much like the soldiers surrounding him, he remained still as John stared silently at the scenario from across the room. Eventually, the hysterical man turned back to Sherlock and looked him straight in the eye. "You're serious aren't you? What a joke your species truly is…"

"Why invade the planet of our 'species' if we are such a 'joke' then?" Sherlock continued his pointed glare as he spoke monotonously to the imposter, trying viciously to force some kind of answer. The man scoffed.

"Who said we were here for your species? Or at least pre evolved version? No…" Sherlock raised an eyebrow. More advanced species of human? What could he possibly be talking about? There was something he clearly didn't understand here… But what? At the statement John glanced apprehensively at the bio-bomb still lying unharmed in the centre of all the commotion. This also caught the lingering attention of the mad man (or most likely not 'man').

"Do you like it?" John stayed rigid as the male's scrutinizing gaze traced his body from top to toe and back up, a sick form of hunger welling up in his cold eyes.

"It's a biological bomb…" Sherlock stated bluntly, so as to draw the creep's attention away from John.

"Very good. What a clever boy you are. Yes that is a bio-bomb. Can you guess what it is for?" He looked expectantly at Sherlock, who simply continued his charade of nonchalance towards the whole situation. Grinning wickedly, the shorter man skipped behind his lean figure and whispered harshly into his ear. Sending chills of ice down his spine and causing the stern detective to visually seize up. "I'm going to use that bomb to _kill_ every living thing on this planet after we have everyone we are looking for… Then sell the wasteland… How delightful." Sherlock's eyes widened as his heart hammered unusually in his tight chest.

Cackling inhumanly, the now elated looking man jumped around the room like a young child on Christmas morning. "Haha, how wonderful to watch petty humans squirm for their useless lives!" Sherlock dived into his deduction mode, attempting to formulate any version of a plan in his mind, while John (being extremely devoted to his species) once again wriggled against the powerful hands which forced him down. But it was all interrupted as the man came to a stop, hand cupping his face as he stared at Sherlock's still unreadable figure.

"Right boys, may as well test them while they are here! Come along!" With that he turned to leave the room as Sherlock felt himself being shoved forwards to thankfully walk beside John. Some form of weapon was wedged in-between each of their shoulder blades as their steps fell into time with the marching brigade behind them. They exchanged a friendly glance, Sherlock assuring determination to John's worried expression before the consulting detective turned back to stare cunningly at the humming man in front, as John simply let his gaze fall to the ground. He honestly didn't know what else could go wrong….


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Notes: Heya! Thank you for your continued reading, I hope you are enjoying everything and would greatly appreciate feedback. I have just been immersed into the amazing world of tumblr, if you could check me out at ! Thanks!**

The halls were cold, unnaturally so, causing Sherlock to unwillingly shiver as a large door shifted open in front of them. John trudged silently by his side as the insane creature before them hummed happily like a child on his way to the toy store, practically dashing into the cavernous room, stuffed full of strange pieces of alien machinery and with mutated souls padding around. Sherlock's alluring eyes darted around the room, calculating everything that was possible (which really wasn't that much) as they were led roughly towards a formidable looking contraption.

"Here we are boys." The mismatched brigade halted in front of a gargantuan piece of technology which obstructed much of the enormous room, a tiny control panel with vividly colored buttons was placed strategically at the centre platform, but as John gazed up, his stomach dropped. As on either side of this platform was a row of human sized tubes, visibly sealed with transparent doors. "Aww… What a shame. Our journey together will be finished soon!"

John passed a distressed glance to Sherlock who stared at him, his usual mask in place, but John could see the small amount of comfort he was attempting to give through his softened eyes, and it allowed his heart to loosen slightly. Even as the freak stalked back to the consulting detective's side and once again leaned uncomfortably close to his ear, however his eyes stayed fixed on John the whole time. "And the second you fail this test, I'll throw you and your little boyfriend off the ship and see if you can fly!"

"We're not a-" A weapon's but hit sharply into the ex soldiers back, causing his sentence to go unheard as he slumped with reignited pain from his former shoulder wound. Sherlock refused to give in and look, choosing instead to stare at the machine in front.

"What does it do?" Sherlock's voice came out as a demand, which only served to force the leader into a laughing fit as he casually strolled back towards the control panel.

"Oh, don't worry you'll know soon enough… Right, let's get going!" With the order stated, the duo found themselves being pushed towards the two nearest tubes. John kept his eyes locked on Sherlock, who in turn, looked back at him. As they got closer, John began to struggle pushing against the brutes behind him in panic. Their leader stared unapprovingly and began to move threateningly towards John. This caught Sherlock's unwavering attention as John continued his vain attempts at escape; he worriedly glanced back at his companion before compliantly stepping straight into the looming tube.

John stared at him, bewildered, and laying his trust in the smarter man's hands, allowed himself to be pushed into the opposite tube, his gaze never leaving Sherlock despite his heart hammering like a drum in his chest. Luckily this caused the leader to shrug and turn back to his console, pressing a couple of buttons as the doors closed on the capsules, trapping the duo inside as he grinned maliciously.

Freezing air flooded into the enclosed space, causing John to involuntarily begin shaking as Sherlock could feel goose bumps prickling on his skin, but their gazes never left one another. Sherlock blocked out the rest of the world as it cascaded into silence, only focused on John's shrinking figure as he placed a tentative hand against the misted glass. Their hands wouldn't touch but the link was still there as the cold almost became unbearable.

However down below them, the leader just sighed as his grunts emitted low pitched sniggers from behind him. "Pathetic…" He playfully pressed the largest switch and watched, intrigued, as bright scarlet lasers began to overlap in the top of the tubes. John swallowed deeply as the silence was interrupted with the aggressive buzzing of danger. But unable to avoid temptation, Sherlock glared up at the pattern of blood, examining it quickly before looking back at John's tube, where the small figure was bashing violently against the unbreakable glass.

Suddenly, the lasers in Sherlock's tube began lower towards his head, as John was forced to watch, helpless as his friends name went unheard. On instinct, Sherlock leant down and made himself as small as possible but the illuminates kept lowering! The blood red searing into his eyes as John violently hit the glass of his own space. Sherlock looked at him, mouthing his name almost pitifully as the lasers quickly travelled through his body…

But instantaneously, they dissipated! Sherlock looked over his body and hands, and then back to the now sagging John who stared at him in disbelief, a small smile tickling at his features. Sherlock looked down to where the aliens had burst into obvious laughter, clearly amused that he had mistaken a scanner for a killer. But his attention was more focused on the smirking leader, who chose that moment to turn a screen around. Amongst calculations and a full body computer formulated image was a single word in red.

Negative.

"Looks like you're off the ship then!" The leader spoke, but Sherlock couldn't hear him as he noticed the lasers in John's own prison slowly cascading onto him. The doctor began to overreact but once again locked his sight on his friend and gradually clamed and allowed the lights to trace his stiff body. It was a strange burning sensation, not exactly painful, but as if ants were crawling along in his fleshy skin. But then it was over, as he let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. Sherlock nodded comfortingly at him before turning back to face the leader who was glaring at the screen.

Sherlock had to go to his mind palace. How were they supposed to get out of this? Was there any possible way of not dying after a, what he had calculated from take-off time, one hundred foot fall? There was two of them. Could that work to an advantage? Yet it was no use, emotions blocked his senses with defeat and concern, permanently blocking the glowing doors to his alone land. Unfortunately this lack of concentration caused him to pick up on the evident perplexion on the aliens face.

"Isn't that interesting…" John's breathing had slowed by now, but as the leader tilted his head to examine the results, he felt as if he could purge. The creepy man slowly turned the screen towards Sherlock, a cheasure grin spreading evilly across his dark face, but John couldn't see the screen. Only Sherlock widened eyes and tormented glance at John as he began kicking against the glass.

Positive.

The burly grunts began walking up to the tubes once again, except this time, John had considerably more coming towards him, one greedily holding what appeared to be some kind of metallic collar. The glass doors slowly slid open as Sherlock's shouts finally reached his ears. John firmly pressed himself against the back of the glass tube and willed everything to go away. Something was wrong. He had to be one of the ones they were looking for! But why?

The first creature grabbed him brutally and forced his hands behind his back as he was marched forwards despite his desperate struggling. Opposite, Sherlock writhed in an armored freak's grip as the leader began stalking towards John. Good strong John. He kicked the alien but it was no use, there was nothing he could do as John was forced to his knees.

"What a little turn of events this is! You! One of them! Wonderful, honestly you're making my job a hell of a lot easier!" He leaned down next to the squirming doctor and gently stroked underneath his hairline, ignoring the warning hiss from the ex-soldier. He harshly grabbed the thin collar from his man and ran delicate fingers over the inside rim. "I'm sure you'll suit this well…"

"Boss" A static engrossed voice broke across the room from the critter holding the shrieking Sherlock. Their leader twisted, annoyed at the interruption and looked nonchalantly over the useless figure. John promptly looked up at his friend as Sherlock was forced to stand still. Cradling the collar, the man turned to face the other prisoner and spoke lazily.

"Just throw him off the ship…" And with that, he twisted back to John as the doctor's heart dropped. This couldn't happen. Sherlock shouted his name over and over as he was dragged towards an open hatch, the pillow white clouds whizzing past the aqua sea, as he was forced to the edge, a single cold tear falling down his cheek. The evil bent down and whispered giddily in his ear. "Say goodbye to your boyfriend!"

This wasn't happening.

He opened his mouth but nothing came out.

This couldn't be happening.

Sherlock was only a single step away from the edge.

This wouldn't happen.

Rage coursed through his body as he screamed. The ground far below the ship ripped in half and began targeting the ship as all hell broke loose.


	9. Chapter 9

**Heyo! So yeah… Thank you for everything, reviews or anything really make my day! Hope you enjoy.**

It would have been an extremely unusual sight for anyone to bear witness to, huge craggy boulders hurtling straight into the clear skies with no explanation of how they were being propelled. Luckily, there was no one around to see, a barren planet in hiding would not take note of this extraordinary phenomenon, and not a soul would see as these rocky bullets collided harshly with an invisible vessel.

"SHERLOCK!"

Still glowing with rage, John glared towards Sherlock as the ships constant hum was interrupted by ear piercing sirens; echoing through the halls as the consulting detective wobbled precariously next to the edge, still in the firm grip of the perplexed alien. The rocks pounded against the ship, even denting some of the floor with their sheer force, causing the crew's grounding to sway, as many of the aliens toppled onto the floor.

Earth pierced the metal around the doctor, injuring those who were supposed to be guarding him, and allowing the shorter man to stumble crudely to his feet. Shouts could be heard alongside the resounding alarms, but no orders could take effect as the armored goons wrestled to remain standing. John ran, adrenaline pumping through his veins, as he met Sherlock's glassy and baffled gaze once more.

Sherlock caught on rather quickly, managing to push the bulkier frame off of his own in its confusion and stammer away from the edge, getting closer to his running companion. They met in the middle; John's determined feature's softening as his head was dug into his companion's chest, Sherlock pulling the man protectively into a sturdy position as he tried to comprehend what was going on. In a split second he leant down and spoke directly into the ex-soldiers ear, allowing conversation over the thundering sirens which ran throughout the ship like a herd of stampeding bison.

"We need to get out now!"

"You don't think I realized that Sherlock!" Suddenly the ship took a particularly violent pound, causing many crew members to suffer the fate which Sherlock had so narrowly avoided, flailing uselessly as they were flung out of the hatch and onto the unyielding ground miles below. "What is going on?!"

"I don't know…" It pained him to say it, but whatever was happening, wasn't natural. The cobblestone crashed against the ship, weakening the metal so much that certain slabs of stone had already broken through and were bouncing around the interior. Sherlock grabbed his companions forearm and began running for the nearest exit, however this caught the attention of the infuriated leader who was taking refuge under the control panel.

A blood curdling smirk leaked onto his face as he staggered to his feet, ignoring the pleading cries of his followers, and ran at full pelt in pursuit of the retreating duo. He sneakily followed them out of a door which had been ripped open by one of the earthen balls, carefully pulling out what appeared to be a gun. But it was glowing, vivid aqua seeming to flow around the metallic exterior which covered the easily distinguishable liquid inside. He would end this; he would not die unless they did!

The ship groaned around them as its descent hurtled towards the Earth, Sherlock didn't know where he was going. Could there be a way out? Could they just jump? No, that could only end in disaster. Bullet trains of thought whizzed through his skull, only to be interrupted by John's insistent shouts.

"He's behind us!" Turning his head, the consulting detective received confirmation, the leader in all his horrific glory was sprinting behind them; holding what appeared to be some kind of weapon. Smiling maliciously, the dark haired alien raised the killer directly to Sherlock's face. His heart dropped yet again. Inside the barrel was the blue liquid that he knew too well by now. How was it even possible to create a weapon able to hold that? Inside the barrel, was the liquid used to create a bio-bomb!

"Take my hand John!" NO! He would not end like this, nor would John. The former looked up at him in disorientation, before his loyalty took over and he intertwined his fingers. A quiet 'now people will definitely talk' escaped his lips as they were flung forwards by yet another puncture of gravel. Their pursuer's laugh echoed eerily across the cavernous walls as he gained more ground by the second. Heart racing in his chest, Sherlock made his decision.

Still clinging onto his partner's hand, he fleetingly changed direction, rounding a sharp corner into a straight hallway. The leader grunted as he pushed on to keep up, slotting areas of the weapon into one another as it finally began to load for firing, he hoisted it straight in front of his mass, peering down the sight as he dashed forwards.

John became painfully aware of what was happening when a gaping hole came into view directly in their path! He looked at Sherlock but the man's eyes stayed firmly fixed on the path ahead as rocks continued to tumble into the organs of the shuttle. What was he thinking? Gulping, John just closed his eyes and pushed forwards with his companion. The leader's own eyes widened around the sight as his hasty shots ricocheted off the walls, not one nearing it's intended target. And how fortunate they were that it hadn't. Where the goo touched the walls, it sizzled as it corroded through, however when it hit an unfortunate insect (who was also trying to retreat from the fiery vessel), it burned straight through the screaming organism. Dissolving it's very essence until it vanished in death.

"STOP!" But the outraged leader's shouts were in vain as the two figures jumped. Straight out of the plummeting spaceship and into the open air. John's features scrunched tight I panic as Sherlock held his gaze fast on the ground. From here the view was clear; the dirty rocks were pounding relentlessly at the ships underside, causing malfunctions and fires as it was struck down. The heavy rocks shot around the falling figures as the leader's angered features shot venom from above.

John could feel the world moving around him, Sherlock's warm hand in his, but it was over. There was no way to survive. It had been fun, Sherlock Holmes was by far the greatest man he had ever known, but he would never get a chance to tell him everything… A final pleading thought passed through his head as he accepted his fate. 'I don't want him to die'.

And suddenly they weren't falling, they were descending at a controlled pace! Grounded. John opened his eyes tentatively, only to be met with the sight of a gigantic flying boulder which had miraculously caught their combined weight. It now gently cascaded to place them on the Earth below! He lifted his head to stare at Sherlock, who in return was already looking at him. A one sided smirk slid onto his face as a cheasure grin flooded relief into John's features, and they laughed together. As they had so many times before after defying death. Grinning as one, they failed to notice the creature above also grinning wickedly as he casually began walking through his crashing ship.

They eventually found themselves on the ground once more, the stone carefully positioning itself into the destroyed grassland which it had once come from. The duo stepped off, turning to see the metallic beast hurtling dangerously into the distance, engulfed in blood red flames. A horrific crash sounded from the distance, then silence. Nothing moved, nothing breathed and (thankfully) nothing happened.

"The bio-bomb…"

"It didn't go off!" Sherlock's eyes lit up as he allowed himself to relax onto the lush plain. Sneaking his lithe arm around John's sagging shoulders as they watched what was left of the world move, ever so slowly, around them. The boulders returning themselves to slot back into the ground, flying as if controlled by an invisible force.

"What's with the rocks?" John asked quietly.

"Honestly?"

"Honestly."

"I have absolutely no idea. But I do know one thing…"

"And what would that be genius?"

"We need to find the others!"


End file.
